The life & times of the eternally evolving, erratic, eccentric expatriate (who loves the color violet)

Today my “Roaring Twenties” came to an end; I sincerely hope and believe that my thirties will not entail a “Great Depression.” Been there, done that.

I don’t feel any amount of a crisis or hesitancy about turning 30. In fact, I’m glad. My twenties were a period of major trial and error. I was faced with some unorthodox adversities and somehow managed to overcome most of them. I battled major demons, a few of which are still being dealt with. The only difference now is that I have the experience that comes only with time and the knowledge that, at some point, things do in fact get better. As the old but valid cliché goes, your twenties are a period for finding yourself. How I wish that I had known this a decade ago, especially in my darkest moments.

With the passing of time (hopefully) comes evolution. Evolution is not only a change, but it is a better and more complex change. If I ever needed evidence of how I evolved, I would examine this decade and realize that I started my twenties:

As a university student who eventually went on to graduate at the beginning of the infamous economic crisis. I had zero job prospects, and as a result, felt like I had zero prospects in life. I underwent my own crisis for a number of years, much of which had a great deal to do with a lack any type of employment. By the grace of God, I went from being an “economic refugee” to having a fulfilling career as a teacher doing exactly what I had envisioned and hoped for myself all those years ago, but in an even better position that could have imagined. It’s no surprise that being a teacher is one of the toughest jobs out there, and I am honestly apprehensive about returning to work after my maternity leave. However, it’s an incredible feeling to be able to look forward to having a job waiting for me that I honestly enjoy and find fulfilling.

Very much alone, but am very blessed to not have ended it that way. I can’t comprehend how I existed without my family, my very own family. They mean absolutely everything to me and give meaning to my life that I could have never imagined even a few years ago. I have a loving, amazing, compassionate, and incredibly thoughtful husband who is also my best friend in the entire world. I have a healthy, beautiful, sweet baby boy who I get to see growing and developing and hitting milestones every day. Life becomes so much fuller and worthwhile when you have a family who you love and who love you in return.

Not having much of an idea of who I was or what I was. I spent far too long being at odds with myself and even hating myself at times, mostly for inane reasons. That is my greatest regret about my twenties; it was a “lost decade” of sorts. I’ll admit, there are many instances when I feel like an awkward kid trapped in the body of an adult, and I have no freaking idea what I’m doing. Slowly but surely, however, the pieces of the puzzle are coming together for me, and after all this time, I’m finally starting to figure myself out. My life has much more meaning to it now than it ever did before.

At age thirty, I know that I’ve come a long way. At age thirty, I realize that I’m still very much a work in progress…